


stayed awake and stared at you ( so i wouldn't lose my mind )

by luctoretemergo



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Broken Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Eventual Smut, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luctoretemergo/pseuds/luctoretemergo
Summary: When Natasha called him saying they needed help finding the Winter Soldier, he stupidly agreed.He just really didn’t think he’d be the one to find the guy.Set after Captain America: TWS, Clint finds Bucky during his two-year hideaway. Instead of dragging him back to Steve right away, he decides to follow along and see if Bucky gets to wanting to go back to Steve himself. If he can help him figure out his mind along the way, well that's just an added bonus.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So while this is taking place between Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Civil War, the fic isn’t exactly MCU compliant. My Clint is basically 90% comic based, meaning there’s no Laura or family with 75 kids for starters - he’s hawkguy for the most part set in the MCU storyline which includes being deaf - which will definitely be addressed as the chapters go on.  
> I do work in the fact that MCU Clint is an assassin, so there's less of him being completely against killing. He does it out of necessity, and will eventually have to in this fic.

He appreciated that Natasha gave him a heads-up about everything regarding SHIELD and the utter shit-show that was to follow. It let him pull out of the mission he was on and take-out his handler, who had been a hundred and seventy percent HYDRA considering how loudly he’d yelled their stupid catchphrase at him before Clint tased him into unconsciousness.

 

But he was getting ahead of himself, or behind himself.  _ Whatever _ . That wasn’t his point. 

 

He appreciated the heads-up, but he definitely was not appreciating the favor she asked. Not that he would ever say no to Natasha asking for a favor. But he still regretted agreeing to it. Even if at the time it had seemed like a longshot, go trailing after the Winter Soldier - aka Bucky Barnes - while Natasha, a guy named Sam, and Steve handled Steve’s recovery and the downfall of SHIELD. Most likely he wouldn’t find anything. The Winter Soldier had been a ghost story for decades, a master assassin, a notorious agent who had escaped the clutches of international agencies for years - 

 

A guy standing four yards away from him trying to subtly steal a baseball cap. 

 

Clint ended up standing there and watching with morbid curiosity as the  _ Winter Soldier _ stared down a red cap and then the shopkeeper and then back at the cap. It went on like that for five minutes. He leaned against a wall and just watched. Eventually the Winter Soldier - or Barnes or James he guessed - gave up and slunk away for whatever reason. 

 

Before his brain caught up with his body he was already sprinting across the street to the little store front. He snatched the cap from the rack it was on and waved it at the cashier. The amount he was looking over his shoulder probably freaked the guy out, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. Instead he threw a sweaty, crumpled up twenty dollar bill at the cashier before turning to try and catch up with Barnes. 

 

Despite the couple of minutes between him watching Barnes leave and now, he wasn’t that hard to spot. The hood up in the middle of the day was suspicious, not to mention there was a way a person carried themselves when they were hyper aware of everything around them - and oh was Barnes projecting it. That made him easy to follow, but dangerous to approach. Clint wasn’t going to attempt it when in a crowd of people not knowing how Barnes would react. He assumed it wouldn’t be well. So he would avoid civilian involvement by following after him and hoping that he managed to turn down a sideroad or alleway that was a bit less precarious.

 

After ten minutes of following he got his wish. Sort of.

 

As soon as he stepped into the alleway after Barnes, the man rounded on him. The metal hand tangled in his shirt was more than enough to shove him back against the brick wall. Clint winced as his bow case jostled roughly against the bricks and made a horrible scraping sound. “Aw no, I’m not here to fight.” Clint raised both hands up in the air, hoping that the universal sign for  _ ‘don’t punch me in the mouth’ _ would be understood. 

 

The cold look he got in response was better than a punch in the face, Clint decided. 

 

It was about then he realized he had the hat in his hand, and his expression immediately brightened. “The hat, I saw you looking at the hat so I bought it for you.” Clint looked between the hat and Barnes’s steadily more confused expression. Definitely still better than being punched. “You didn’t want to steal it, or didn’t think now was a good time - so I bought it instead.” He waved the hat around by its bill, the motion just enough to get those cold gray-blue eyes off of him and on the hat instead. It helped him feel less unnerved. 

 

“Take it, seriously, it's for you.” He flipped the hat up into the air. “Red isn’t my color.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Barnes caught the hat with his flesh hand. He didn’t put it on right away but he also didn’t crush it in his hand or stab Clint with the secret knife he was sure was on him somewhere.

 

“Why?” Barnes asked, his voice sounding rough from disuse. He held the hat up unnecessarily to emphasise his question. 

 

It took him a few moments longer than it should to respond to Barnes’s question. The sound of the other man’s voice was surprising. Clint lowered his hands and shuffled his feet so he was able to get a better stance just in case Barnes decided to shove him around a little more. Not that he thought for a moment he could beat him in a contest of strength, but he didn’t want to make a complete fool out of himself. 

 

“You wanted it, to hide i’m guessing,” Clint started and when he got nothing in return he continued. “So I bought it for you, to help you hide.”

 

The look that Barnes gave him made it clear he thought Clint was an idiot. He knew that expression well, most people wore it around him within the first fifteen minutes of meeting him. Clint adjusted his shoulders and then stopped when he saw the way that made Barnes’s arm tense and his hand tighten in his shirt. He raised his hands again and felt like he was going to be doing a lot of that. He had a few things he could say but he kept his mouth firmly shut to let Barnes process, yeah, that’s what he was doing. It wasn’t to make sure he didn’t say something that got him punched with a scary-but-cool metal hand. 

 

“You’re an Avenger,” Barnes said, his eyebrows knitting together in either concentration or anger. “Hawkeye.” 

 

At that name Clint let out a long sigh. He nodded all the same. “I guess so, I haven’t done a lot of Avenging lately but I think my membership hasn’t been revoked yet.”  _ If it had he was pretty sure Natasha wouldn’t have called him _ , Clint thought with only a small tinge of bitterness. He watched a fascinating tangle of emotions slide over Barnes’s face over the revelation. The hand in his shirt didn’t tighten, Clint was waiting for it to happen.

 

Instead the hand loosened and Clint no longer had his case digging into his back quite so much. He counted that as surviving his first encounter with the Winter Soldier, even if they were still standing face to face and he could be on the wrong end of an attack at any moment. 

 

“Captain America sent you,” the look that Barnes sent him was questioning, or maybe accusatory.

 

Clint shook his head. “The Black Widow did,” he smiled almost wryly, but the lack of reaction from Barnes made that expression fade fast. “She said you had gone off the grid and someone should watch your back. So she asked me.” 

 

He didn’t quite understand why yet. Natasha hadn’t been hurt, at least not badly. He figured she wanted to help SHIELD regroup what good was left in it, or look after Steve. But he did understand not wanting to ask Stark and Banner, neither exactly had the skills. Not that Clint thought he had the skills to deal with this, especially not when he looked into the shuttered expression that was a hundred percent Winter Soldier on Barnes’s face. Considering he was one of the few from SHIELD who were definitely not HYDRA though, he understood why he was on the short list. 

 

“Listen, i’m sure you don’t want someone tagging after you but if you don't want HYDRA catching up with you then having some help isn’t going to hurt.” Barnes had broken free of them somehow, something having to do with Steve - he only knew that much. But he didn’t think that Barnes had connections, or safe houses, or cash. All of those were really important things if you wanted to stay on the run and out of sight. So was good intel. Clint at least had some sort of network. 

 

“Plus, even if you say no i’m gonna have to follow you in order to not feel like a piece of shit for just giving up.” 

 

Barnes stared at him with a look of pure exasperation. “I don’t want help.” 

 

Clint grinned, that was exactly the response that he was expecting. “Figured as much, but you still need it.” He was taking all sort of liberties here, which was dangerous, but no one ever accused him of being tactful or prone to feats of great self-preservation. 

 

He knew that this could go a number of ways. Worst case, Barnes kills him. But he thinks if that was the option he was going with that he would already be dead. Best case, they walk to the nearest airport and fly to where Steve and Natasha are holed up. Clint isn’t optimistic enough to think that was what was going to happen. Not with the guarded, squirrely expression on Barnes’s face. There was something eerily familiar about that look that he couldn’t quite place. Or maybe he was just looking for something to understand in Barnes so that the man didn’t seem like such a mystery. 

 

“I’m not...ready to see him again,” Barnes explained slowly, as if picking his words carefully.

 

_ Ah, well, that made sense.  _

 

“Okay,” he wasn’t really sure what to say to that. “Then what’s the plan?” 

 

The look Barnes gave him was unreadable. Clint just kept looking at him. Considering there was still a hand in his shirt that didn’t let him move, he didn’t have many options. He had a feeling that trying to push Barnes to do something he didn’t want to wouldn’t go over well.So he’d wait until Barnes figured out what he wanted to say and then wing it from there.

 

“I need to remember who I was, who I am,” Barnes said, diverting his gaze so he was no longer looking at Clint. “There’s too much there now that doesn’t make sense.” 

 

Clint felt all the air go out of his lungs.

 

_ So that’s why Nat wanted him to help. _

 

Licking his lips, Clint nodded. “I get that.” He really did. God knows he could have used some of that time and space to sort himself out before, but he had a bunch of aliens to shoot. The thoughts that rattled around in his head for weeks after the Battle of New York had to be nothing in comparison to what was going on in Barnes’s head right now. He had decades of memories as the Winter Soldier - not to mention whatever he forgot from being Bucky Barnes. This wasn’t going to be a quick process Clint guessed.

 

“I’ll help you do that then.” The confusion crept back into Bucky’s expression. “Look, i’m not exactly an expert on recovering lost memories but I do have the connections and safehouses that make figuring it out a lot easier. To give you the space you need or want to do that.” 

 

He could already think of a few places, his apartment in Bed-Stu, the Condo down in Florida he had inherited when Phil died, the shitty flat in Budapest that he kept more out of nostalgia than ever wanting to go back, and the farm he’d gotten decades ago but never visited. None of them on SHIELD’s radar. Two of them only Nat knew about, but he didn’t think she would be coming after him anytime soon. Not if he didn’t give her a reason to.

 

Clint knew he was getting ahead of himself, Barnes hadn’t even agreed yet. He was still giving him that confused yet unreadable expression. 

 

“Why?” Barnes questioned, his voice low and hesitant.

 

“Nat asked me to help —”

 

“That’s not the only reason,” Barnes interrupted, eyebrows knit together again. 

 

He wilted slightly, Barnes was clearly perceptive even if he had a few screws loose. “Because, ugh, maybe I think I can help you. I sure as hell won’t be able to help with the whole SHIELD falling apart thing, and it isn’t like I have anything better to do.” 

 

Clint felt stupid saying that. He was a damn good agent, a great assassin, and the best marksman in the world. He should totally have a bunch of backup plans for if his current gig ran out. But with the Avengers only intermittently needed and SHIELD having gone down the drain he didn’t. If Natasha hadn’t called him he would have either gone to wherever she was to wait for instructions or gone to hang out in his apartment trying to get the cable to consistently work. The prospects were kind of depressing if he let himself think about them too much.

 

The hand holding his shirt dropped away and Clint found himself finally able to step away from the wall. He reached up and adjusted the strap of his bow case, slowly. He didn’t want to spook Barnes anymore than he already had.

 

“Fine, but only until I don’t want your help anymore,” Barnes replied.

 

_ Oh shit, he actually agreed.  _

 

It was clear that Barnes wasn’t entirely convinced about accepting help, but something Clint had said got through to him. Instead of turning and walking away like he looked as though he wanted to do, Barnes just looked down at the hat in his hand and seemed to contemplate something.

 

“Red is too eyecatching, I was looking at the black one.” 

 

That...was not at all what Clint was expecting. It left him blinking owlishly down at the hat in Barnes’s hand and then back up at the man himself. “So, uh, let’s go buy the black one?” 

 

It was utterly surreal to walk out of the alleway with Barnes skulking two steps behind him. He marched straight back to the same shop as before and picked up the black ball cap, smiling sheepishly at the cashier who gave him a very confused expression. He completed this transaction a bit less hastily, handing over the money and saying thank you when he got the hand and change in return.

 

He turned to Barnes and held out the black cap, which he realized was a much more subtle color in comparison to the bright red one the man was holding. They swapped and without much thought Clint pulled the red cap on his own head, not really having anywhere else to put it. The last thing he wanted to do was give it back to the cashier or do anything else to alarm the man. 

 

As soon as Barnes had his own hat situated Clint turned and stared to walk away from the shop, surprised when Barnes followed him. Too bad he had no idea where they were going. 

 

“So, uh, why Baltimore?” He turned to look half over his shoulder at Barnes, the man’s face completely hidden with the way it was ducked and the brim of the cap. Smart. 

 

“Big city, close to D.C., and lots of transportation between the two.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Clint should have realized that. “Do you have a place you’re staying here?” 

 

It had been over a week since the Triskelion fell. But there was no telling how soon Barnes had moved from D.C. to Baltimore. Considering he was on the run from basically every organization on the planet, he had to be extra careful. The metal arm and stupidly handsome face were going to get him a lot of attention. Not to mention the surly attitude. It made him wonder when Barnes had stolen these new clothes, he certainly couldn’t have traveled in whatever his tactical gear was. 

 

“Yes.”   
  
Huh, okay. That was another surprise.

 

“Is it like a paid for place or did you break in?” 

 

Barnes gave him a cold glare, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Abandoned,” he snapped.

 

“Okay, okay sorry. How about we go get your stuff and then rent a hotel room or something and figure out a real plan?” When he didn’t get an answer he continued. “You can pick which hotel if it makes you feel better.” 

 

That got a curt nod, and Barnes soon over took him to lead the way. They quickly left the populated part of downtown and eventually made their way into a much more industrial area. Clint was on edge, realizing this was the exact kind of place you take a guy to knock him out and leave him while you run away. Except they walked further and further away from the center of the city and Barnes made no move to lash out at him. Clint started to relax, or rather, his attention was focused less on Barnes and more on their surroundings. He wasn’t exactly familiar with Baltimore or where it started to get sketchy. Getting into a fisfight alongside a guy who spent the last seventy odd years as a brainwashed assassin did not seem like a good idea. Sure, they’d win. But he had no guarantee that Barnes would know where or how to stop once he got going. 

 

The building Barnes led them to didn’t look abandoned from the outside, which was probably part of the appeal. Barnes jumped up and grabbed onto a ladder for a fire escape, courteous enough to leave it hanging down as he climbed up. Clint dragged himself up after, muttering mostly to himself about how a front door also worked. Barnes either didn’t hear, or more likely didn’t care to deal with his complaints. 

 

Once inside it was clear the place was abandoned. The room Barnes had staked out must have been an office of some sort, enclosed and with only one window and a lockable door. The best position he could probably have. He had the advantage of height and cover. In the room was a sleeping bag and a backpack. Other than that the rest of the room was covered in dust and looked as though Barnes hadn’t even bothered to touch it. 

 

He lingered by the door as Barnes heaved the backpack onto his shoulders and then tucked the sleeping bag under his arm. 

 

“That’s all you have?” Clint blurted out despite knowing Barnes had just escaped from HYDRA not that long ago. It was just a sad to see how little Barnes had. He immediately felt like he should go buy the man ten more ballcaps. Or at least a pillow. Instead of a verbal answer Barnes just gave him a curt nod and then moved past him to leave the room, his presence alone making Clint feel the urge to take a step back. He manfully resists but did hesitate a few seconds before turning and following Barnes out of the room.

 

Climbing down the ladder is easier than climbing up, and he dropped to the ground next to Barnes with a dull thumping sound. “So, where to now?” 

 

“Somewhere safe.” Barnes said as he adjusted the straps of his bag more carefully onto his shoulders.

 

“Great, we can just head back towards downtown and pick up my car and then we can figure out where ‘somewhere safe’ is.” Clint started to walk out of the alley, but is stopped by the annoyed sound that Barnes made.

 

“You have a car?” He asked, clearly dumbfounded. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“A car that we could have driven here instead of walking?” Barnes asked slowly, as if Clint might not be able to understand.

 

Oh, yeah, apparently he did. 

 

“Well, yeah.” Clint scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact when Barnes walked up next to him.

 

He swore he could hear Barnes mutter the word “Unbelievable” under his breath as he started the trek back to the center of the city. Clint decided to keep his mouth shut so he didn’t say anything else that made him look more like an incompetent idiot in Barnes’ eyes. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a road trip with the Winter Soldier is about as much fun as it sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ao3 didn't let me post this chapter for days because of a dash I had put in it that cut off the rest of the chapter. But thanks to one of my eagle eyed friends I got that figured out. So I apologize for the delay. Good news is I have half of Chapter 3 written already so it won't take nearly as long.

The car ride was painfully awkward.

 

At first he attributed it to the fact that Barnes was pissed he hadn’t mentioned the existence of the car until they had hoofed it all around Baltimore. As time dragged on he was sure the awkwardness was just something that formed when the two of them were in close proximity to one another. Nothing could explain how the car could feel so stifling so fast when no one was even saying anything.

 

The realization that no one had said anything, of course, is what got Clint to start talking.

 

“You know I wasn’t suggesting that we just sort of drive around forever.” He turned his head to look at Barnes. When he didn’t get any sort of reaction, he swore that Barnes didn’t even blink, he started to talk again. “I mean we can, well sorta, we’ll run out of gas soon and then we have to stop.” His eyes cut down to the gas tank gauge. “Nevermind it's pretty full so we’ll be good for at least a little whi -”

 

“Shut. Up.” Barnes cuts him off with a low sound that bordered on a snarl.

 

Clint pressed his lips together and focused on the road in front of him. He still wasn’t keen on the idea of being punched by a metal hand, and said metal hand was on the side facing towards him right now. Though it was tucked mostly out of sight, the fingers seemingly curled under his own thigh.

 

Somehow he still found himself humming ten minutes later. He noticed the way Barnes’ human fingers twitched in response. But when he didn’t comment Clint just kept humming under his breath. If he couldn’t talk he had to fill the oppressive silence somehow. He couldn’t imagine turning on the radio would be received well. Whatever station he picked Barnes was likely going to hate it and he really didn’t want to deal with having to explain why his radio had a fist-shaped hole in it. 

 

Two hours into their drive, Clint’s stomach gave a gurgling growl that drowned out any humming he might have been doing. He remembered he hadn’t eaten since the night before, a quick stop at a twenty-four hour diner on his way from D.C. to Baltimore. By now it was bordering on late afternoon and his body was making its intense displeasure at the lack of food known. Apparently his fear of pissing off the Winter Soldier could not override his body’s need for food after all.

 

As they continued down the steadily darkening road, Clint eyed the road signs. A few miles later he sees a sign advertising gas, food, and a place to sleep ten miles away. Clint figured they could use gas no matter what. The food was just a bonus. 

 

Barnes looked up when he turned off of the highway and onto the off-ramp. Those cold eyes settle on the side of his face, but he doesn’t look over. Not until he’s pulled into the gas station and shut the car off.

 

“I figured we’d get gas and food, you have to be hungry by now.” He pointed at the gas station, and then a diner advertising all day breakfast across the road. He doesn’t get an answer, so Clint gets out of the car and filled up the gas tank - taking quick looks into the car to see what Barnes was up to. During the few minutes it took him to fill up the tank and go inside to pay it hardly seemed as though he moved at all. Which was concerning, but not entirely his problem either. 

 

Except it was totally his problem, he was basically the guy’s babysitter. Oh god,  _ he  _ was in charge of another living creature. That was a terrifying thought.

 

He went to the driver’s door and opened it up, leaning into the car he cleared his throat. “You gotta be hungry by now, right?” He questioned, not sure Barnes wasn’t hungry at this point. Unless he had been smart enough to eat right before Clint found him. Which was totally possible considering most people eat three meals a day, and not one meal plus a handful of protein bars. 

 

When he didn’t get an answer right away Clint sighed and slumped against the car. “Come on my stomach is gonna eat itself,” he whined, he outright whined in order to get some sort of reaction. At first he just got a side-long glare. It send chills down his spine but he continued to look expectantly at Barnes. He didn’t maintain eye contact for long, soon enough he was looking away from Clint. It was a relief to not have to hold those unsettling eyes for very long. He felt like he was under intense scrutiny everytime Barnes looked at him and he absolutely hated the way it made him want to squirm.

 

He found himself following where Barnes’ gaze landed, and it clicked as soon as he sees those eyes focused on his own metal hand. Well, that certainly made sense. Barnes was wearing long sleeves but the metal of his hand was still prominently on display. As if he didn’t stand out already. 

 

Leaving the driver’s side door hanging open he goes to the back seat and pulls out his bow case. Opening it up it takes only a moment before he lets out a triumphant sound. With the glove in hand he balled it up and tossed it at the side of Barnes’ head. It hit with a dull slap. Barnes turned and glared at him, looking supremely pissed off. But his expression slipped into one that was a lot more like confusion when he picked the glove up and finally realized what it was. “They are fingerless, but they’ll cover most of your hand. I’m sure no one will even notice.” With that he stood and shut the two doors he had opened. 

 

Much to his intense satisfactions Barnes got out of the car half a minute later. The glove was securely on his left hand, hiding most of the polished silver metal. He watched as Barnes tucked the hand into the pocket of his jeans. The gesture is casual enough and you can really only see one metal thumb. There still seemed to be tension lining Barnes’ entire body, but he got out of the car - so Clint counted it as a victory. 

 

He managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he walked towards the diner, practically bouncing with every step. When they get to the door he held it open for Barnes, who just slunk in after him those cold eyes roving over the restaurant. He assumed that Barnes was scoping out all the weak points and exit routes. It reminded him of what Nat would do when they were places, she was just more stealthy about it than Barnes seemed to be.

 

“You gentlemen can seat yourselves, someone will be right with you.” A pleasant voice called out, and Clint smiled towards it before heading towards a corner booth. 

 

The booth is bigger than what the two of them need, but it would allow Barnes to wedge himself into the corner and look around if he wanted to. To his utter lack of surprise that was exactly what Barnes did, pressing his back to the booth and looking around the whole of the restaurant. He seemed to relax somewhat after a few moments. Clint assumed it was once he got a grasp of the layout. Or once he realized that middle of nowhere Pennsylvania wasn’t a hotbed for dangerous activity. Either way he looked less like he’s snap in two from tension and that was good enough for Clint.

 

“Can I get you two started off with something to drink?” The waitress questioned, her lined face smiling pleasantly as she set menus down in front of them.

 

“Yeah, coffee - lots of it, and an orange juice please.” Clint replied with his own grin, greedy hands already picking up the menu to scan it over.

 

There is a prolonged silence where Barnes is supposed to be giving his drink order. Once it gets to the point of unbearable Clint looked over his menu, his persistent staring etting Barnes to look up at him. He jerked his chin towards the waitress and put his menu down so he could mouth the word ‘drink’ at him. When that didn’t get a response he had to resist the urge to tilt his head back and groan. Instead he turned a ( hopefully ) charming smile towards the waitress. “Sorry, long day on the road - he’ll have some coffee and orange juice too.” He batted his eyes at the waitress for good measure, hoping she’ll forgive and forget.

 

Luckily she doesn’t seem shaken, just writing down their order. “I’ll get you boys the biggest pot we have,” she promised with a wink before walking away.

 

Once he was positive the waitress was out of eye sight he snapped his fingers between them, immediately getting Barnes’ attention. “Hey, come on. If you want to blend in  _ trying  _ would help a lot.” He sounded exasperated, and he was. He still had no idea what he was doing and it wasn’t as though Barnes was making it any easier either.

 

Barnes made a noncommittal sound and reached out to pick up his own menu. He didn’t actually answer the question that Clint posed. If anything he outright ignored it. 

 

He rolled his eyes at the lack of response and focused back on his menu. It didn’t take long for him to figure out what he wanted. Once he had Clint simply looked around the diner idly. No one was staring at them or trying to make covert phone calls. He didn’t expect anyone to actually notice either of them. He was by far the least known Avenger, and the Winter Soldier was still barely anything more than a Ghost Story. Not to mention Barnes hardly looked like what someone would consider the Winter Soldier. Especially not with the ball cap pulled down on his face and the excessive stubble that at this point was bordering on a beard. 

 

Clint realized he was looking more at Barnes than anything else only when confused eyes met his own. Luckily he was saved by the arrival of their waitress. 

 

“Here you two go, biggest coffee pot we have.” She smiled while he set down an impressively large carafe of coffee along with some creamer and sugar. “Now what can I get you to eat?” 

 

Clint quickly rattled off a large order of food. Pancake, eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and of course french toast. He didn’t miss the amused look on the waitress’ face as she wrote down his order. 

 

Much to his surprise, Barnes actually spoke. “I’ll have the ham and cheese omelette.” Barnes ordered and then handed over the menu, ducking his head back down and shielding his face once more. 

 

Once the waitress was gone, he leaned forward and poured them both coffee. He nudged one cup towards Barnes and then dumped a few spoonfuls of sugar into his own. Usually he’d go black, but he predicted a long night of driving aimlessly ahead of them. Which meant sugar and caffeine were going to be seriously necessary.

 

Their breakfast-dinner or “Brinner!” As Clint attempted to make a joke out of, goes well enough. Barnes answered all of his questions and comments in one word responses or piercing stares.It wasn’t punching or going on a homicidal rampage, so he considered it a win. He figured he’d wear Barnes’ down, or possibly build up his tolerance to him speaking. Either way, he would die if he had to stay quiet the entire time they were together so he was going to figure out a way to get Barnes to not look at him with a promise of death every time he opened his mouth. 

 

Brinner was paid for in cash, with two large styrofoam cups of coffee brought along for Clint’s sake.They got back onto the road without any firm direction in mind other than away from Baltimore. 

 

A half hour into their drive, Clint’s phone rang from his bag in the backseat. Despite the numerous dangers he reached behind himself and dug into his bag until he got his hand around his phone. It was long after the phone had stopped ringing, but he still made a noise of triumph after he finally managed to get his hand on it and sit upright in his seat again. 

 

Before he could even look to see who was calling the phone was snatched from his hand, and the sound of crunching metal and plastic filled the car.

 

“What the hell?” Clint yelled, turning fully away from the road to gape at Barnes. “Why did you just destroy my phone?” His phone was literally destroyed. It was a twisted hunk of plastic, broken plexiglass and metal bits in Barnes’ metal palm. Utterly destroyed.

 

“You can be tracked by your phone.” Barnes met his gaze and then blinked slowly. “Eyes on the road.”

 

He let out a frustrated groan while hitting his head back against the headrest. “The phone wasn’t traceable, the only people who had the number are completely trustworthy and my car insurance was on there!” Now he was going to need to find a computer, a printer, and print his insurance out like a heathen. This was the twenty-first century and the only two people without  cellphones in the world were the two of them in this car.

 

Barnes stayed quiet for a long moment before he dropped the hunk of plastic in the backseat. “We have to be careful anyways.” 

 

Clint took his hand off the steering wheel and flipped the bird at him, holding it up for far longer than was absolutely necessary. It didn’t do anything, but it made him feel better to have his middle finger shoved in Barnes’ face. 

 

“Just for that we are stopping at a Walmart,” he snapped, shoulders scrunched up towards his ears as he sunk down into his seat. He also turned on the radio to some god awful top twenties pop song station ( that it totally wasn’t already set at ) and turned the volume up high enough it couldn’t be ignored. He could feel the dirty looks that Barnes sent his way but Clint steadily ignored them and Barnes himself out of pure spite. 

 

The nearest Walmart was an hour and a half away. Further than he thought, but close enough the righteous annoyance he felt hadn’t yet had time to fade. 

 

He pulled into the parking lot, mostly empty due to the time of day and the fact that they were basically in nowhere Pennsylvania at this point. Killing the engine Clint turned his body so it was angled towards Barnes. “Come on, you are suffering through this too.” He said loud enough that Barnes couldn’t play at not hearing him.

 

The huffed out sigh that Barnes let out let Clint know he had definitely heard.

 

They walked in to the building together and he couldn’t help but try and catch a glimpse of Barnes’ reaction. He looked horrified. He blinked at the bright lights and looked around at the huge store with a face that made it seem like he had smelled something terrible. Which, maybe he had - super nose or something like that. Clint started to laugh and didn’t stop even as he picked up a basket and started to lead the way through the aisles. They didn’t need a lot but he was certainly going to drag this out as long as possible, both to stretch his legs and pay Barnes back for breaking his perfectly good cell phone. 

 

He hadn’t expected Barnes to get sidetracked five minutes in by a child-sized t-shirt with Captain America’s star spangled face on it, though. 

 

At first he lingered a little ways off and trying to politely not stare at the back of Barnes’ head. But he couldn’t leave him alone in the store and it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t going to move anytime soon. Slowly Clint approached him, stepping lough enough to be heard as he came up beside him. “How much do you know, or I guess remember about him?” No one had filled him in on how much Barnes remembered. Natasha said that she and Steve thought he remembered a good deal, considering Barnes had saved Steve’s life from that river. 

 

“I don’t know.” Barnes’ response was painfully honest sounding, soft and a little hesitant. “There’s a lot there, and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.” 

 

Clint felt his heart give an odd clench at the answer. Ducking his head he tried to think of something to say that might be comforting, but nothing seemed good enough. How do you comfort someone who just woke up from what was essentially a seventy year coma where their body had been moving without their permission? 

 

Barnes turned and walked away from the shirt first, clearly ending that line of conversation.

 

He felt guilty for how grateful he was for that. 

 

As they walked silently through the store Clint dumped things into the basket they’d need. Deodorant, some shampoo, a set of gloves that would cover the entirety of Barnes’ metal hand - things that he had thought about before entering the store. He almost passed entirely by the section filled with school supplies, but his attention was caught by a display of notebooks that read three for five dollars. The thought hit him suddenly and he was grabbing the different notebooks even before it had fully formed in his mind. He grabbed a package of pens for good measure and added them to the basket. 

 

There was no telling if he was ever going to get the courage up to give them to Barnes, but they seemed like a good idea just in case. 

 

They left the store armed with a few bags full of food, basic hygiene supplies, a prepaid cell phone, and various other things Clint thought were necessary - that included the notebooks. Clint tossed the gloves at Barnes once they were outside and took more pleasure than he should have out of the way his expression transformed from confused to understanding between one second and the next. 

 

By the time Clint dumped the rest of their supplies in the backseat and got into the driver’s seat to start the car, Barnes already had the new glove on with his hand resting openly on his thigh. 

 

Clint took that as a win.

 

Despite the outrageous amount of coffee he had put into his body by the time his car told him it was bordering on ten-thirty at night, Clint decided that they needed to pull into a hotel somewhere and get some sleep. He wasn’t even sure if Barnes slept but sitting in a bed instead of a seat of a car had to be preferable. A road sign indicating a hotel at the next exit seemed like a sign from heaven and Clint decided to take it. 

 

The hotel they pulled up to looked nice enough. Clearly built because of it being an exit off the highway, meaning it wasn’t anything fancy but it looked nice enough that families on road trips would stay there. Or two guys who had no idea where they were going. There were plenty of restaurants and gas stations peppered around the hotel too, but Clint only had eyes for the hotel and the beds it surely promised. 

 

He turned off the car and hesitated about leaving the keys inside. He thought he looked rather stealthily between Barnes and the keys before deciding to take them with him. Barnes’ voice suddenly cutting through the air after a few hours of silence proved him wrong.

 

“I know how to hotwire a car.” 

 

Clint swore he sounded almost amused.

 

“Well, fantastic. But don’t.” He muttered, not sure if Barnes would listen. He shut the door a bit harder than necessary as he walked away from the car.

 

Thankfully it didn’t take long to book a room with two beds for the night and then collect their belongings from the car to be stored instead in the room. Clint called first dibs on the shower, which was somewhat lacking in water pressure but was hot and came with a free bar of tiny soap he used generously to get the smell of road and fear-sweat off of his body. He collapsed face-first onto the bed Barnes wasn’t sitting on after he had finished and redressed. Not even bothering to really dry his hair and instead let the scratchy comforter of the bed take care of that.

 

“What did you get these for?” Barnes’ voice cut through the white noise of traffic and his own breathing, and it was the only reason Clint lifted his head and turned so look at the other man.

 

He realized Barnes had gone through all of the Walmart bags and separated everything. The phone was sitting close enough that Clint could reach across the bed and grab it if he wanted. But that wasn’t the focus of Barnes’ attention. Instead it was the notebooks that he was holding up. Barnes’ eyebrows were drawn together, clearly not sure why Clint had bothered to buy them out of all their other purchases. 

 

“Oh, they’re notebooks.” He started, laughing nervously when Barnes’ eyebrows pulled together more in an expression that clearly read ‘I know, idiot’. “You said you remembered a lot of things, but you weren’t sure what was what so I thought….ugh it's stupid.” Clint pressed his face to the scratchy bedspread and wondered why he had even bought the notebooks. They seemed so stupid now. Barnes wasn’t a kid, he might not like Clint butting in and trying to help him without being asked. 

 

Almost tentatively though, he was proven wrong. 

 

“So you thought what?” Barnes’ voice was flat, but Clint could hear the way the bedspread shifted under his form as he turned to look at something. From the way the back of his neck heated up, he assumed it was him.

 

Face still planted in the bed, Clint took a deep breath. “I thought you could use them, to write down what you know for sure, what you aren’t certain about, and what you wanted to know.” His face felt hot with embarrassment. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, it seemed like a good idea at the time. But saying it out loud made it sound even stupider than he feared it might.

 

There was a pause before Barnes spoke again, and the sound of paper being flipped. “That’s why there are three of them?” 

 

Clint nodded despite the fact that he was still face-first in the bed. “Yeah.” He sighed again, his shoulders heaving with the motion. “You don’t have to use them if you don’t want, it was just a spur of the moment thing.” He turned so he was lying on his side, ignoring the way his hearing aid dug into his ear uncomfortably. 

 

He could probably take them out. He hadn’t for a few days and they were really starting to irritate him. Usually he left them off for hours at a time when he was anywhere relatively secure. There was probably nowhere safer than with the Winter Soldier, unless the Winter Soldier decided to come after him or someone decided to come after the Winter Soldier. So actually, there were lots of places safer than where he was. Clint wasn’t sure if he could trust Barnes yet. So far they hadn’t come to physical blows, but the destruction of his phone and the other’s testy attitude had made it hard for him to relax completely enough to want to be that vulnerable. 

 

One more day wouldn’t kill him. If Barnes didn’t ditch him while he slept or kill him in his sleep, he’d probably be trustworthy enough to be in a room with when he was completely deafened. 

 

Despite his trepidation about sleeping around Barnes or in his hearing aids, once he got underneath the sheets and away from the scratchy comforter of the bed sleep found him relatively easily. Easily enough that when he woke up, it took a second for his mind to snap forth the information of where they were and what was going on. He turned over almost too quickly once he realized where he was, expecting the bed next to him to be empty. 

 

Instead there was Barnes, clearly having been watching the muted television but now looking at him instead. “What?” His voice wasn’t annoyed, but clearly exasperated with Clint’s antics already. It must have been a new record.

 

“Uh, nothing. Just wanted to make sure you were still here.” Clint explained as he kicked the blankets off of himself. He went into the bathroom, both because he really needed to pee and it saved him from making a further idiot of himself in front of Barnes.

 

He did stumble over his own shoes on the way into the bathroom, but he refused to look over his shoulder and see what kind of face Barnes made in response. 

 

Once he had washed his face and smothered his shame down, Clint emerged from the bathroom rejuvenated. Or at least less likely to trip over his own shoes again. He was thrilled to see Barnes had changed and packed almost everything up in the short time he’d been in the bathroom. “Ready to hit the road?” He questioned, accepting the small nod as a good enough answer. He wasn’t exactly perky in the mornings either, and their first stop was definitely going to be coffee. 

 

Walking over to the dresser he picked up his bow case. It let him have a nice view of the trashcan where the packaging for the pens he bought was discorded, along with the paper that had been on the front of the notebooks. But the notebooks themselves weren’t in the trash. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder at Barnes, whose gloved hand was curled around a plastic sack with the unmistakable shape of the notebooks inside of them. 

 

For once he managed to keep quiet, biting his lip against a smile as he held the door to the hotel room open for Barnes. It wasn’t like he had gotten him to crack a joke or smile, but it still felt like something. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is formed, a joke is made, and Clint might need to learn to keep his mouth shut more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to anyone who is still reading about the huge delay. I had a busy year or so, but now my life is settled and I'm pretty dedicated to writing the rest of this fic as I've outlined a great deal of it already. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and subscribed. It is great to be able to share my WinterHawk thoughts with the world!

They have been driving vaguely towards Pittsburgh since leaving the hotel that morning. Barnes hasn’t said a word about where he wanted to go or what he was planning on doing since Clint basically ran into him on the street. The one time he attempted to ask hadn’t gone so well which made him a little gun shy about asking a second time. Clint was fairly certain that Barnes simply wasn’t sure yet himself. Which was, fair actually. He’d been under someone else’s thumb ( HYDRA’s, his handlers’s, whoever the fuck decided to make him into a cyborg ) for so long that managing his own life had to be pretty difficult. 

Clint still had no desire to to go to Pittsburgh, a place he’d never been before but whose name alone didn’t hold any appeal to him. He also wasn’t sure what there would hold any sort of appeal to Barnes. He knew the man wanted to sort out his head, or whatever. Maybe he didn’t actually know where was the best place for that but he hoped it wasn’t Pittsburgh. 

Through the course of the drive that day Clint couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at Barnes. The man for the most part sat quietly and stilly in the passenger seat. Sometimes he saw something and that caused him to move. But most of the time when Clint looked over Barnes had his eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror and his flesh hand curled under his chin. It looked relaxing to anyone who wasn’t paying that close of attention. But he could see the tension curled tightly across Barnes’ shoulders, the way his jaw was set that made his own ache in sympathy, and the fact that his eyes were cold and hard as if expecting the worst to happen. 

A few times he considered assuring Barnes that everything was fine. The blow-up of SHIELD and HYDRA would keep almost everyone too busy to look for them. Especially in the literal middle of nowhere. But he knew that didn’t make them safe. Safe was relative and Clint knew how quickly things could go from seemingly safe to an utter shitshow. So he wasn’t going to patronize Barnes by telling him he was safe. 

But he was really close to telling him to loosen up a little, he was seriously getting muscle cramps just looking at him. 

He waited until they needed to get gas to actually say anything. Pulling into the petrol station he placed the nozzle into the gas tank before rounding to Barnes’ side of the car. Knocking on his window he waited impatiently for him to roll it down. He swore that Barnes did it as slow as possible just to annoy him.

“Soooo,” Clint started, realizing mid-sentence he hadn’t thought of exactly what he wanted to say. “Have you given any thought to where exactly we are going?” He questioned, looking expectantly down at Barnes. He really hoped for an answer this time.

Barnes pressed his lips together for a moment, clearly thinking, before answering. “I need to know more about myself, HYDRA bases will have information on me.” He blinked and then looked away from Clint. “About what they did to me.” He clarified, his voice dropping lower.

It made sense, Clint thought, that Barnes would want to know exactly what he been done to him over all these years. If anyone would have information about him it would be HYDRA. That didn’t stop him from getting a bad feeling about going anywhere near HYDRA when they were in such a heightened state. 

“Okay. That’s a workable plan.” Clint agreed, looking away from James when the tell-tale click of the gas not filling anymore cut through the silence. “Do you know where any of the bases are?” He asked over his shoulder while putting the nozzle back.

“A few. A lot of it is blurry still.” Barnes replied, leaning forward so Clint could hear him as he spoke. 

Clint himself didn’t know how to find HYDRA bases on his own. They didn’t necessarily need to do it on their own. “Make a list of places you remember, we can cross-check with the information Natasha dumped online and then go from there?” He suggested with a shrug. James’ memory was bound to be the best place to start. He had actually been to these bases before. There was no telling what all HYDRA kept deep in SHIELD’s databanks - base locations were possible, but that seemed rather risky when SHIELD had plenty of agents who weren’t loyal to HYDRA working there as well. Unless Clint was overestimating how many not-evil co-workers he had.

The gas was paid for, copious amounts of snacks and beverages were bought, and then Clint started the car back up. They were still heading towards Pittsburg, but at least there was a plan in place. Sort of. 

_________________________________________________________________

He can’t help but notice when Barnes writes something down in one of his notebooks. He’s driving, so of course his full attention is on the road. Except for when it isn’t. Like when there’s the soft scratch of a pen against paper coming from right next to him and he can’t resist the urge to look over and try to catch a glimpse of what Barnes is writing. But the notebook is angled in such a way that he can only see that there is writing, and not decipher any of the actual words on the page. He’d have to crane his neck far too obviously in order to actually see anything and he wouldn’t put it past Barnes to hit him from being so obvious.

Clint considers asking outright what Barnes is writing down. He can already imagine the shuttered look on his face and the dead silence that would follow for hours after he did so. Which meant that was a definite no. He hadn’t gotten Barnes to loosen up completely but he thought he was getting there. Sort of. Doing things that pestering him about his secrets would likely destroy all of the work that he had put forth so far. So instead he suffered in silence. Well, near-silence. His fingers tap unerringly against the steering wheel as he tries to keep himself occupied. 

It is well past midday and traffic is starting to pick up on the road. Meaning that Clint has to pay more attention to driving than he does Barnes. Not necessarily a bad thing. But it seems as soon as he does that, is when Barnes starts to demand attention. 

“There are bases in South America, ones that have information without being right in the heart of HYDRA territory,” he said out of nowhere when Clint had just finished cursing out a minivan that had cut him off when he tried to get into the passing lane. 

The sudden sound of Barnes’ voice after hours of silence would have made a lesser man jerk in surprise, Clint just slams harder than he meant to on the horn. Once the sound fades he quickly turned his head towards him. “Yeah?” He questioned before turning back to focus on the road. Five o’clock traffic meant having to really keep his eyes on his road. No attempted peaks at whatever Barnes was doing. 

“I need a map to find the exact locations of the bases. It's been a long time, I think.” Barnes’ voice is unsure and there’s a tinge of frustration in his tone as well. “The big bases will be in Europe, but they’ll be more likely to have agents still in them.” 

He didn’t want to go try and fight HYDRA on their own. Even if he would generally put his money on the guy who beat the crap out of Captain America in a fight, it was still a stupid idea. “So let’s start in South America.” He agreed with a shrug, his eyebrows stull furrowed in concentration from the road. “We can work on our tans, hunt down evil neo-Nazis, and figure out how to get into their European bases without needing a tank - or a Hulk.” He could feel that Barnes looked at him as he rambled off his answer. Mentally he amended it to not include the tan, or probably the Hulk.

“Okay, so we’ll only work on our tans if there’s time.” He agreed, sounding reluctant despite the fact that Barnes hadn’t say anything. But he swore he could feel the eye roll that his words elicited from him with his joke. 

Seriously though, he did want to lay outside in the sun for a few hours if they were going to be in South America. Unless they were in the mountainous parts, then he’d hide inside and let Barnes do all of the trekking around outside. Clint figured he would broach the subject once they actually got to South America. Considering Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania was about as far from South America as you could metaphorically get he wasn’t going to focus too much on that. 

Thrilled at the prospect of getting out of traffic Clint turned at the next exit, glad to find the road was barren in comparison to the highway they had been on. “Do you need a paper map, or would Google Maps work instead?” He questioned, keeping his eyes out for some place that could supply both of those things just in case James needed, or wanted, both. 

“Either,” Barnes answered immediately. “A computer might be traceable.” He sounded hesitant at the idea of getting a computer and dragging it with them. 

“No one is going to pay attention to a computer searching on Google Maps, people do that all the time.” Clint wasn’t going to say they wouldn’t be traced. Considering how sketchy government agencies were becoming he definitely thought that their computer activity was being logged somewhere. He felt bad for whoever had seen his, all of the stupid questions he Googled and videos of old Vine compilations he watched to the point that their hilarity should have been exhausted. It wasn’t. 

“Seems risky.” Barnes sounded put-off by the idea, but Clint took the lack of argument as agreement to getting a computer. He knew they’d have a much better chance finding anything with a computer than they would a paper map. Not to mention Clint had a few basic encryption skills to keep them from being immediately found out by someone who was trying to see who would be stupid enough to try and track down HYDRA bases in their free time. 

That of course, meant another trip to Walmart. 

When Clint pulled into the parking lot and shut off the car, he couldn’t help but laugh at the scrunched up expression on Barnes’ face. His entire demeanor telegraphed a lack of of desire to go into the cavernous store, from his crossed arms to the way his shoulders were pulled forward almost protectively. 

“Why are we here again?” Barnes demanded, his voice low and displeased as he turned his glare away from the Walmart to Clint instead. 

“Because it has computers,” he answered happily, shoving the set of keys into his pocket. “And probably a book of maps, whatever that’s called - an Atlas?” Clint guessed, shrugging as he grabbed his burner phone from the center console. He had to bite back the comment about his previous phone having the ability to do all of what they needed. At this point he’d just be doing it to annoy Barnes and that wouldn’t end well for either of them. 

Despite his earlier reluctance Barnes gets out of the car and Clint is able to lock it without too much more cajoling. 

The store is pretty busy, early evening when most people are getting off work prime Walmart-shopping time apparently. That is to their benefit, even if Barnes - who is giving off murder vibes - doesn’t seem to realize that. No one is going to be paying attention to them when some soccer mom with a terrible haircut is bitching about coupons. Clint grins widely as he snatches up a basket, swerving his way through the carts and families blocking off the wide aisles of the store. 

Barnes is always right at his back. A shadow that seems to make people move before him. Clint considered putting him in front, but he’s a bit concerned that Barnes might stab someone. So he continued to lead the way.

The back of the store boasted a decently large electronics section. That’s where Clint headed for first. This time they weren’t sidetracked by the kiddie-sized Captain America apparel, mostly because Clint purposed avoided that area. Once more he was selfishly relieved to not have to deal with a break-down in the middle of Walmart. They wouldn’t be the first people to do that - but they didn’t need that sort of attention. 

Clint got distracted near the movies, eyeing up the new releases with some interest. Apparently too much interest. 

“Can you hurry up?” Barnes’ voice was low and close to his ear, causing Clint to jerk forward and bite his cheek in his surprise.

“Jesus christ - can you make noise?” Clint complained, shifting his basket over his arm as he glared at Barnes who seemed completely nonplussed. 

He muttered to himself about silent assassins and giving him a heart attack the entire short walk towards the computers. 

The selection isn’t very large, but they don’t need anything too fancy. Clint isn’t a computer expect so he isn’t entirely sure what he should be looking for. Usually he grabbed the computer that looked the most durable and ended up stepping on it and breaking it far sooner than he cared to admit. 

So he walked the aisle and furrowed his eyebrows to try and look like he knew what he was doing. 

Barnes let him walk up and down the aisle twice before speaking up.

“Will you pick one?” Barnes is right behind him again, looking over his shoulder at the line of maybe a dozen laptops. 

Clint is pretty sure the inside of his cheek is going to be bleeding for days with how much he’s bitten it today. He turned to look over at Barnes and ask him to calm down, but he can immediately see how irritated and uncomfortable he is. He didn’t blame him, but it wasn’t like he could make Walmart a less irritating place to be, either. 

So he decides to give him a break and picked a mid-priced laptop that seems to have everything they want and advertises a long battery life. He has to harass a sixteen year old employee off his phone in order to open the case for them but they do manage to get the laptop, which finally makes Barnes look less murderous. 

“Good, let’s go,” Barnes mutters, walking past Clint towards the front of the store.

Aw, he’s learning how Walmart works, Clint thinks warmly. 

He trails after Barnes at a slower pace. He likes to look at the amazing goods inside of Walmart after all. Walking so slow also has the advantage of Barnes not being able to look at what he’s doing. That’s how a couples more hoodies end up in his basket, he didn’t pack nearly enough clothing for a world-wide adventure. 

Trailing behind also meant that when he saw a black cat collar with a bell on it, that he impulsively dropped it into the basket as well. He couldn’t say why other than it just seemed necessary. 

Barnes sulked next to him once they reached the self checkout and seemed far more focused on the exit than what Clint was scanning in - which works for his benefit. One bag holds their new laptop and the other the three sweatshirts and cat collar. He makes sure to shove the receipt in his pocket so that Barnes can’t see it and figure out what he’s doing. 

“Ready to go?” He questions cheerfully, shoving the bag with the laptop at Barnes.

“About twenty minutes ago, yeah,” Barnes responds, his voice tight as he stomps to the exit. 

Clint can’t help but smirk as he follows after. “We weren’t even in the store for twenty minutes you drama queen.” The look he gets in response is particularly toxic, and his only response is to smile wider and try to look as non threatening as possible. 

Barnes’ eyeroll is particularly violent, but that’s the only violence he uses so Clint counts it as a win. 

Bags dropped into the backseat of the car, Clint pulls out of the Walmart parking lot and in the same direction they were heading before. They get onto the highway before traffic slows to a crawl. 

“So...are we still going to head north if our actual destination is south? Not that I don’t love driving in bumper to bumper traffic into the heart of steel country.” Clint rests his chin on the steering wheel, seeing that they weren’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Which meant it was the perfect time to harass Barnes with more talking.

Sometimes he sincerely worries about his lack of self-preservation instinct. 

There’s a moment of silence before Barnes responds. “It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice right now.”

Clint snorts in agreement before sitting up straight. “Wait, was that a joke? Did you just tell a joke?” He prods, mouth open with amazement that wasn’t tempered in the least by the chilly look that Barnes fixes him with.

“No.” 

Undeterred, he grins. “Too bad, that was funny.” His grin only wides when he swears he sees one of Barnes’ eyebrows twitch. 

“We don’t need to keep moving north, but I can’t say where exactly we are going until I look at a map and you forgot to buy an Atlas,” Barnes explains, his expression flat tas he reminds Clint now that he didn’t buy one of the two things they went inside Walmart for.

Clint shrinks down in his seat slightly. “Why didn’t you remind me? Or go buy it yourself?” Probably because Barnes doesn’t have money, he reminds himself. But he resolutely does not mention that he remembers that. He’s already embarrassed that he forgot the Atlas, he doesn’t want to make it worse.

“It doesn’t matter now, just focus on finding us somewhere to stop.” Barnes turns away from him then, resting an elbow on the door as he looks out the window.

He finds himself casting a lingering look at the back of Barnes’ head. For a few moments there things were almost companionable. Now they’ve lapsed back into the sort of silence where he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to break it or not. 

Baby steps, he reminds himself, he has to do this in baby steps. 

_________________________________________________________________

 

They end up stopping at a roadside motel that advertises free internet and has a Cracker Barrel right next to it. Barnes isn’t nearly as enthused as Clint is as the prospect of good, hot meal. But he seems to approve of the free internet. So Clint declares it a win. 

Since the motel is rather deserted they are able to get a room with two beds, something that makes Clint breath a sigh of a relief. He doesn’t want to sleep on the floor of any motel and he wasn’t going to try and strong arm the Winter Soldier into sleeping on the floor instead of a bed. He lacked a sense of self preservation he wasn’t suicidal.

Barnes takes out the laptop and immediately hands it to him before he’s able to take off his shoes. “Set it up,” he states before disappearing into the bathroom. A few seconds later the sound of the shower turning on tells Clint that it was more of an order than a request. 

“Yeah, sure, happy to help Barnes,” he mutters to himself as he takes a seat at the dinky table shoved against the wall. 

Setting up the laptop only takes a few minutes, and he uses a spoof e-mail address to set up the account. The water is still running once he’s done, and Clint doesn’t know if he should wait there for Barnes to come out or not. The minutes creep by and the water still doesn’t turn off, so he decides to take the proactive step in going to buy them food. 

Despite Barnes telling him that he knew how to hotwire a car, he still takes the keys with him. 

He doesn’t know exactly what Barnes likes to eat, so Clint goes with the classic staple of a cheeseburger and fries. And then gets three because he’s seen the way Steve eats and has a nagging feeling that one won’t be enough. The waitress at the front gives him an odd look at his order of three burgers and a meatloaf meal but doesn’t question it. He thanks the heavens for restaurants like this where oddballs not unlike himself come through all the time. No one cares when a lone man orders four meals. 

When he returns to the motel room he makes sure to make plenty of warning noise as he opens the door, but there’s still a cool gaze fixed on him when he walks in and more importantly and handgun. 

Clint makes an aborted attempt to raise his hands, but they are full of food and keys. “I come in peace, and with food.” The gun lowers from his face but those stormy eyes don’t. 

“You left,” Barnes points out as he sets the gun back on the table next to the laptop and goes back to typing. 

He notices how careful Barne is with the computer and it leads to the realization that he’s taking great pains to not break it. Clint wishes he would have done that with his cellphone as well, but knows there’s no use in lingering over that now. That can wait until they are stuck in a car or other vehicle together and Barnes can’t kill him for fear of them crashing.

“Yeah, well you were hogging the shower and I figured your super soldier appetite was acting up,” he says while dropping the larger bag of food on the table next to Barnes. He takes his own over to the bed furthest from the door.

On the way there he thinks he might hurt a murmured “Thanks,” from Barnes, but realizes there’s no way. He taps one of his hearing aids, wondering if they are acting up. 

They eat in comfortable silence that is punctuated by the sound of Barnes tapping on the keyboard and the dull murmur of voices from the television that Clint is halfwatching. Sometime after that he finds himself drifting off, full and convinced that if anything happens Barnes will wake him up. 

Sometime later, when it was completely dark and the television was now turned off, Clint rolls over in his sleep and the uncomfortable press of his hearing aid wakes him up - at least partially. His eyes crack open to see Barnes hunched over on his bed, the laptop screen dim but lit up and the notebooks open around him. 

“Didja find something?” He questions, his voice slurred from sleep.

“Yes.” 

Clint nods, glad to hear the answer even if he isn’t entirely sure why. “Where we - ah - going?” A yawn interrupts his sentence and almost immediately his eyes start closing once more. Driving all day was more exhausting than he realizes in the moment. 

There’s a pause and the laptop gets shut, effectively extinguishing the rest of the light in the room. “It can wait for tomorrow, sleep.” Barnes’ voice is soft but firm, he doesn’t sound like he’s going to put up with any more of Clint’s questions. 

He can’t find a reason to argue against sleeping and just nods, shifting his head so that he’s no longer pressing against his hearing aid. “Okay, good plan, sleep is great.” His eyes close completely at that, and his last semi-conscious thoughts were that he didn’t check the perimeter before bed, followed by the realization that he could leave keeping them alive to Barnes for now.


End file.
